Trying To
by tussis
Summary: Everything IS because of other events. rnThis story is written from the end, the most beautiful part, so the first chapter is an epilogue.. rnrnAs the most of you probaly doesn't know, balls and poems don't quite fit together.. but Hermione and Ron do kno
1. Default Chapter

A/N: everything that is in italic is either Ron thinking or Hermione. I know this chapter must be the shorter in all the history of fan fics but it is meant to be like this.

Trying To…

by mionetwin

Chapter One  
'Unaware of the World'

There she is. Same spot. Every time. He should be tired, sick of it. But he isn't because it's her favourite. The light that comes through the window is lighting her flushed cheeks. He's tired of spilling the tears over them. She's more. He's tired of waiting to lock his arms around her body. She's more. She's tired of making him yell. He's more. She's tired of just looking at those lips. He's more. So, they're even.

-

She bits her lips, strongly. Her tears won't fall down again, she wonders. Attention, it's going to bleed, the lower lip is going to bleed. That would be something that she was sure she was feeling, something she was sure it was… The right thing to do! Had it been? Couldn't she just continue to ignore it, as he had done, hiding his eyes from her, once he understood she was able to read them? She just thinks it all over again and again. This subject is so stepped, so thought about, so known… Out of nothing, she feels a sudden urge to look to her side. Incapable of ignoring that numbness inside her heart, flowing though her veins, she turns her head gracefully, trying to remain unknown to the rest of the world. Her mouth opens slightly and her heart misses one (_maybe even two_) beats. He is here.

-

Then, she notices him. Wow. How can her eyes shine so brightly? They're like the sun. Only, he'll never get blind by gazing at them. Maybe by love. In that case, then, he already is. They sparkle and shine up the room more than the light from the window does. Why did he mention it a moment ago? He can't remember. He doesn't want to also.

-

He's standing on the door frame, uncertain of what to do. She can get it from the shine (_always on_) that fills his eyes. His searching look stops when their eyes meet. She doesn't know if she wants them to. Unsure and uncomfortable with the silence, she does one thing she just can't resist when she's around him: smirks with her soul on her lips.

-

Her lips form slowly a soft smile. One that's one of kind. Just for him. That becoming-grin is completing the effect of her eyes on him.

-

She waits, as she sees his standing figure.

-

Her feet never stop bouncing. Not that she's nervous, she's just... her. Bouncing one foot. Now the other. Forwards, backwards. He kind of likes that habit.

-

After all the time she has concealed that feeling that consumes her slowly, it's strange how she is so anxious. Her palms sweat. If he has come here, then why did he stop? Didn't he read it? It was on his pillow, for Merlin's sake! Maybe he has just come here to take his doubts! Doesn't he understand he is giving her more hopes, more facts to dream about?

-

Eyes focused on her, he takes a step forward, finally. Just one. Quietly but effectively. Slowly but firmly. But it changes everything and that's all she needed to see. To know, to feel and to love.

-

As his right foot moves, her sight gets all blurry around his body. Actually his body is the brightest thing on the room. She feels like she is the moth, running blindly to the flame.

-

The next moment, he's on air. Just as her hair starts brushing his face and her lips his mouth, everything is blur around them. Just as he puts his arms around her waist, everything stops. Just as their foreheads press against each other, everything is them.

Finally, all is forgotten and remembered. Memories flash past their closed eyes. Everything he sees, she foresees exactly it. And all she notices, he examines closely. Their bond is stronger now. The kiss is more vibrant as she remembers the walk in Hogsmeade. The kiss is more passionate as he remembers he's the boy she was crying for. The kiss is more real as they know of their love.

-

She makes a decision and holds his hand as firmly as her weak fingers let her.

-

She takes his hand. Without looking at where he puts his feet, he follows, half amazed, half hypnotized. Everything she exhales, everything she says, everything she looks at, everything she feels, make his heart jump and his lips tremble. In this precise moment, she doesn't speak but she's still that fantastic girl. And that's all he sees and needs to see.

Suddenly, after all the rushed walking, he is finally tempted to look around him. She has taken him to a tower he doesn't recognize, or maybe- he feels like he knows it somehow. It's higher than any other he is aware of. Its top is completely uncovered to the open dark sky. Tonight, the clouds that remain after the bath of sunset that happened only hours ago form the most beautiful images. They mix rose, orange, yellow and all the colours he can associate to this moment. Between those masterpieces, there are many sparkling stars, concealing from the undesired eyes. They play hide-and-seek, teasing him, but he's not very interested. He has eyes for her only, his girlfriend. Now, that the part that he was destined to do is achieved, he senses his heart, mind and soul are… colourful perhaps? Like the game of different coloured shadows that plays in front of them, taking their breaths away. He clasps her soft hand harder, not letting her go, when she indicates a bench that appears from nowhere, magically.

Turning around, she beams at him, thinking of the sweetness of his move. As they walk to their seat, everything stops, the world isn't turning anymore and the rest of the universe isn't breathing. Their eyes are locked, their bodies move in unison.

As he takes his place, she is immediately on top of him, making him wide his eyes with something he wasn't expecting. Once again, she smiles at his surprise. She is amazed too with all she is doing, for practically the first time. Even though, her eyes are shining, when she leans on him without a doubt. Their lips meet again, after such time parted. For many years, this gesture has been all that has filled their heads, all that has haunted their dreams. And it is a relief to be doing it now without any fears, without hesitations. In this moment, it is a sign of commitment, of love and of a lifetime.

She stops to breathe and sighs when he moans with disappointment, although a mischievous smile lingers in her mouth. Sure, she's a prefect, but she's in love, right? Slowly, she strokes his cheek with her thumb. They're red, just as his ears, and he's breathing heavily.

"So…"

"So…" he responds, same mysterious tone.

"So, you love me…"

"What makes you sure?" he asks, attacked by a one of a kind stupidity wave that she accepts with all her will.

"Well, maybe your sudden appearance in my favourite place. Who could have known that without loving me?" she says, apparently victorious, although not at all wanting to win anything more than him.

"Harry does," he snaps, immediately, without even thinking. His eyes startle with his heart, when he hears his own words. _Stupid, stupid! Why did you have to bring Harry up? Why? This is it._ Now, she is going to start yelling at him. Really, how can he ruin every little moment like this he has with her? And it was all being so perfect.

She, at least, isn't very fond of letting go of this entire advance. She just isn't willing of losing him another time and only having this enough courage again sometime between her 30s and 40s. She wants to let go this slip. So, she says carefully and in a calm voice:

"Harry loves me."

"He does!" _Is there anything I don't know? And probably don't want to!_

She sighs, enjoying some parts of this entire confusing situation. "As a friend." Then, she whispers at his burning ear, "Not as I do to you."

"Or me to you." This time, he completes it confidently, a knowing beam in his lips.

Her eyes sparkle with the profound darkness that's normally called the sky. A star shines, reflected in the middle of her black pupil. A tear comes down her cheek, slowly after such a long privacy of love. He has promised himself he won't ever let anyone make her cry. But, this time, he lets her and cries with his beloved.

Two figures sobbing silently in the night.


	2. Unaware of the Flake

A/N - Well the first chapter is written. Actually it was posted wrong, some phrases were supposed to be in italic but they weren't… MY fault, people… sorry! Just hope you understood them and the point of the story… Anyway, this time I already know how things work, well kinda of, so the mistakes will be diminished or so I hope… And I have one thing to point out to my dear readers: Hermione hasn't turned crazy! She only talks to herself (and not out loud) when she is on the tower and doesn't have any one near her. I tried to make it like a friend, an experienced friend, kinda of her conscience. SO when the sentences are between only one apostrophe ('for example') it's her inner voice/conscience talking. When they're on _italic_ it's the true, confused Hermione thinking.

I'm very grateful for my beta, Buckbeaky, for reading the work of a novice… And thank you for all the reviews, people, they were a huge incentive!

_Yellow smile: _in Portuguese this means a fake smile…

Disclaimer: unfortunately, I don't own any of this characters or any of this places. If that was the case, I would know Rupert and Tom and Daniel for so long and would be living in a 60s apartment in NY already. As I will some day. When I'm a famous writer… for that to happen I need a lot of reviews! Please!...

Trying To…

by mionetwin

Chapter Two

'Unaware of the Flake'

_Celebrate the New Year with that special girl_

_Experience the cold, the snow and the fun of the_ **WINTERBALL**

**Hogsmeade – 10 January**

_So go on and ask her, boys!_

_Promoted by _**Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft** _and destined to its students only (from 5th grade to 7th)_

Three open mouths, three pairs of stunned eyes and three stopped-breathing noses stood in front of the placard that had been posted during the night by the elves on the Gryffindor Tower. Maybe by fear (the cause could be of old experiences), maybe of astonishment, maybe of outrage and maybe just of fun. Probably fear in the three cases, some may think.

The thought of jumping and saying, "we just shouldn't stand here, arms crossed, when the elves are killing themselves working! I can't believe you two don't agree with me," and defending the liberty of those strange creatures crossed Hermione Granger's mind. However, unlikely her and her rapid reflexes when it came to comment knowledge and Ron's decisions and perhaps due on the latest affixed news, that didn't got to her stern lips on time.

The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, many times described as one of the members of the girl's controlled loving triangle that included the professional Quidditch player, Viktor Krum, was faster. He turned his crooked neck (with difficult and many strange noises that didn't help the concentration that Neville Longbottom was putting on the spell he was training, something about frogs and moons or lunas) to his other best friend, the male one, called Ronald Weasley (who had his ears on fire by that time) and exclaimed:

"Well, I thought Dumbledore would never get that low! Maybe he is getting colour-blind." Harry pronounced the two last words very seriously but the next moment and out of nothing Harry started laughing like a mad man.

Ron did the same. Actually, the idea of the Hogwarts headmaster writing such a thing was very funny. Maybe he had written it at night, in secret, with his pyjama gown full of moons and stars and-

"Harry! And _Ron!_"

The two stopped immediately with the snickering and turned to face the girl that had just screamed. Hermione. Very scary, with all her frizzy hair around her head that seemed it would cut deep if you just to approach a step or two.

"Well, you have to admit it, Hermione! It is kind of funny- " Harry paused to breathe, trying to swallow the laughs that continually escaped from his mouth "Dumbledore- Dumbledore- Sitting at his desk, in his- in his office writing this with his hidden-from-everyone-pink pen!" He pointed to the card and Hermione finally noticed. The card had pink letters. By that time, Ron and Harry had already succumbed to the tears that the headmaster's lack of taste had made flow.

Unlike herself, Hermione let out a shriek that assimilated to a low laugh. Ron pulled his head up and his expression was almost as surprised as it was when he had seen the Ball placard. Harry did the same move but, by the time he had done it, she was already comfortably seated in a sofa, clutching her stomach, laughing loudly. At the sigh of that, the boys grinned widely and joined her, making everyone in the Common Room gaze at them.

She inhaled deeply. Hermione Granger's nostrils were filled with cold, the transparent shadow that come from the white snow which had fallen just hours ago. The first fall of winter. Tons of students were in that precise moment below the girl, throwing snowballs, laughing, enjoying the first sign of the upcoming winter. And eventually its Ball… Hermione still couldn't believe how Dumbledore planned another one those awful things. And with a pink pen… A voice, very back in her head, locked between door of wisdom and books, the one that stammered whenever Ron was around and sometimes even spoke louder than the reasonable one, whispered quietly 'just because the fourth grade ball didn't quite work out for you (partly your fault… Oh yes, it was too!) doesn't mean the same will happen on this, right? Could you just consider putting your feet on the dance floor for one hour or something?'

Up where she was, in a high tower, unknown by the Weasley twins and the rest of the school of Hogwarts (except perhaps for professor Dumbledore), she could let that voice shout and scream freely. After all, it was unable and not permitted for it to speak of its will, for large amounts of time. Now, it spoke of all that had crossed Hermione's mind since she had seen the Winterball placard.

'He should have invited you already, right? First because you explicitly told him to do that in fourth year! Second because it is his duty to ask you! Yes duty. No I'm not being old; it's just that anxious girls can't ask the boys they want to float on air with this year! Any girl, not just the desperate ones… Girls can't just ask a boy to go with them, it's prohibited. I'm sure some of them will make a few girls suffer for a little while… So prepare yourself for a couple of weeks when all you'll see around you are exchange of looks, secret smiles and girly blink of eyes! Girls will make groups to giggle between classes and point at boys very indiscreetly… Boys will work out their abs (don't laugh, it's true) and train their sexy beams and eye-brow lifting at the mirror (what would be very funny if you were a fly and if you entered their dorm and- okay, okay I'll stop it). The point is… well you'll be out of context for a few days… We both know that these rituals aren't really your thing, right? But relax, don't stress! He'll ask you, sooner or later (lets just hope he doesn't do it on the day before the ball). No don't accept any, any invitation! Do you copy? Do you copy? (Come on, it's a joke, you have to say "Roger that." Please?... Huff… Forget it, the moment is lost forever. Heard me? Forever and Ever!) Not even if it is from Josh… Why? Because! He clearly likes you and he's a great guy and he's smart and he's intelligent and he's so cute and he has that smirk that breaks the heart of every girl on school except for you (but you're close, believe me…). Because of all that stuff! Besides, Ron kind of hates him which is proof of his eternal love for you but isn't really good news for Josh.

Every girl in Hogwarts would fall on you if because of you and your stupid mouth if you did accept Josh's invitation (the one he'll probably do in two or three days) and then Ron would ask you and you wouldn't be able to go with the love of your life to the ball that could be perfect and then Ron would get very, very angry and he would smack Josh's face and every girl would hit you to death for destroying his face and his future career as the most desired wizard for every kind of company in the magic world. And you wouldn't be able to spend the rest of your days with Ron and who would I give tips to? Am I right or am I right?'

_Yes, you are very much so wrong, your Highness._ Hermione stuck her own tongue at herself. _But what if he doesn't? What if Ron doesn't want to go with the bookworm and know-it-all he has got to know through out six years?_

'It's precisely because of all that! It's because you ARE the bookworm and know-it-all he has know for six years! I bet he's dreaming of dancing with you on the ball, right now!'

_Sure! Like… I don't why he's sleeping RIGHT NOW because it's…_ Hermione checked her Muggle wrist-watch. Soft and separate waves broke gently and quietly on the white sand of a beach in Bora-Bora, as her parents smiled, while sitting on chair with coconuts on their hands, on the bottom of the dial. She sighed, great vacation that had been. _It's exactly three p.m. OK? He can't possibly be sleeping! Unless he's taking a nap, which would be a very interesting thing and… I don't know maybe a little fun for his brothers to know right?_ Hermione smirked to herself suspiciously.

'Hey, hey! Aren't you getting a little lost here? We weren't trying to humiliate Ron in front of… Everyone! No, no! It's a great idea, but to be used by other people. When he actually takes naps. Probably he's running the entire castle, searching in every hall and room for you, to ask you to the Winterball. But you're HERE stuck in this tower where no one can find you…'

_You know what? This is a secret so don't tell any one… That IS why I am here. Because no one else knows about this place._ The girl had found the tower on the beginning of the year, her sixth at Hogwarts. One day, Hermione had had a huge fight with Ron. After all the harsh phrases were spit out and regretted immediately but only inside one's heart, she wandered around, kicking walls and scaring people on corners with the looks on her face ('awful behaviour for a Prefect!'). Somehow, she climbed the stairs to the tower she now knew so well. At first, she just tossed stones at the small walls surrounding her, low not to fall down because the tower was open to the skies. When one of the miserable stones jumped the rock wall and there was sound assimilated to "ouch" on the ground, she stopped quietly not to be noticed and conjured a bench for her. Then she changed it to a sofa. On the next moment, the floor got filled with pillows of all colours and shapes. And a plate full of lemon cookies and coconut cake. And an icy coke on the side. She sat, ate a cookie, sipped her drink and transformed it all in the hard stone bench again. Looking around, gazing at the sunset and thinking a lot, Hermione stood on the tower until night fell, like curtain on the sun and revealed the shining stars. When she finally got to the Gryffindor Common Room, the first thing she saw was a very tall person coming up to her, one who seemed to have a red mop on the top of his head and two completely black bags under his eyes. The cleaning-boy-from-Ulster hugged her, almost with enough strength to break her ribs. Then he turned his back at her, took only three steps to get to the stairs that led to the boys dorm and, when he reached it, he looked back and smiled softly and with all the tenderness in the world.

'Now, now you're ready to get out of here. Right?' Her self voice was gentle this time. It sort of pushed her slowly to the tower stairs, as Hermione glanced one last time at the sky so close and as the inner voice closed the doors of wisdom and books behind it, one by one.

As Hermione walked in the cold corridors, her boots echoing even more because of the students missing, Ron was entering on the Main Hall, shaking the snow from every part of his body, after fighting and rolling with Harry and Ginny outside. He had been the only one to come inside because he had said he had something "to do and… say!"

When Hermione went around a corner near on her way to the Gryffindor Tower, she didn't see the corporal mass with more than six feet coming toward her and neither did the aforementioned giant. They hit but only Hermione fell.

"Ouch! HEY!"

Just when she looked up she found out that she had crossed with Ron. His lips formed a mischievous grin.

"Now, Miss Granger, you have another one of my defects you may use in one of our future arguments. I only expect that you shall employ it properly and fairly. It is a task I lay with pride on your hands, confident that you'll handle it well, as you did just- " Ron closed his eyes, falsely trying to remember their last fight like it was an ancient thing. It had only been on the day before. "yesterday!" Ron completed, victorious.

In the mean while, during his big-worded speech, he took her small hand in his and pushed her up. Even though his fingers were long and his palm large, Ron's skin was soft. She thought of asking him if he wore any lotion. Then again, she reviewed the question and decided to make him maintain that information for himself.

"So where were you? We had a snow fight. Ginny and Harry against me. Don't know why they insist on being on the same team…" Something told Hermione that Ron _did_ know. "It definitely isn't the same thing without your tactics…"

"If you had followed my plan that day, I assure you we would have won that battle. But no! Ronald Weasley taking instructions from a girl? Never!"

"Of course not! It's against my way of living!"

Hermione quickly opened her lips to make him hear what she thought but she was suppressed by his firm finger on her mouth. Instantly, she forgot what comment she was about to make. Sometimes, she kind of liked that ability he had to make her be quiet.

"Lets _not_ fight for a change. Please… Just for this time, cause I really need to talk to you."

"Okay. Spit it quickly because right now I'm feeling generous but you know how my mood can change."

"Yes, Ma'am, I know. So…" Ron gazed deeply into her eyes. Was he looking for something? If it was reassurance to continue he wouldn't find it on her eyes, once she was losing control of her legs. If it was fun to laugh he wouldn't find it, for once she didn't think not being able to get away from there was the funniest thing on earth and its surroundings.

Ron was unusually nervous. He had put his hand on the side of her right arm and he was getting closer. Which wasn't a good thing if he didn't want to be kissed by a bookworm at that moment. His fingers seemed to have penetrated her shirt _and_ sweater. The place was getting warm, so warm she was about to moan. Which wouldn't be a fine example for the two third-year boys that had just come into the castle…

She had to control herself, behave like the Prefect she was. 'Then why don't stop thinking so fast?'

"I was thinking… Of what you said… A few days, or years, or whatever…"

She loved the way he said that word… Sexy!

"…and the same situation is up right now right? So I was thinking-"

"You already said that one." 'Yeah, sure! That's a way of being a perfect Prefect _and_ forgetting about his invitation. Great picture, Prefect Granger at the Ball all by herself! Ron will definitely ask you to dance, if he's not dancing with Megan!'

"Uh! Excuse me?"

"I said you already said 'I was thinking.' So I thought I should warn you." Hermione pointed out, weakly, regretting she had left her tower already.

Ron made a grimace and stayed in silence. After a couple of minutes of shutting up, probably after he understood what she had just said, he protested, "Yeah, but… That's not the point! I wanted-"

"HERMIONE!"

They both turned their heads at the screaming voice that matched with the person they saw: Ginny. She was heading in their direction and probably wasn't on the best of her days, because of the quickness of how she stalked the whole hall. When Ron's little sister reached them, she pulled Hermione by the left arm and ruined her brother's speech. As Ginny dragged her friend throughout the corridors, she tried to breathe deeply, to calm down. But apparently it wasn't working.

Ron followed them but he couldn't keep up with the rage that made Ginny walk so rapidly. Maybe because of that, his shouts resounded on the way.

"HEY, Ginny! I was talking to Hermione, okay? Telling her a very important thing!"

Hermione looked at him, puzzled, over her shoulder, and he managed a shy smile.

When they got to the Fat Lady, Ginny huffed the password so furiously that the guardian didn't let them get through. Only when the mad girl threatened the Lady by shouting that she would tear apart the painting if she didn't let them get in, the portrait slid to the side, showing them an empty Common Room.

Ginny let go of Hermione and threw her tired body on one of the biggest sofas.

"What happened?" asked Hermione, carefully.

Ginny stood up again and started snapping it all.

"We were having a snowball fight, me, Harry and Ron. Then I saw Alex's friends and him near us. Alex waved at me and went up to him. We talked a little and I noticed his friends were all snickering and all. I thought it was nothing, they're always like that. Then I thought it was a great time to ask him. You know to the Ball."

As Ginny was walking around in circles, Hermione stole a glance at Ron. He was looking at her and his ears got a characteristic redness on the top.

"Girls can't ask boys this year!" they both exclaimed.

"Yeah that's what he said! And you know what he said next? Do you know what else that stupid son of a- said! He said he wouldn't appear on the Ball with a peasant girl," a tear escaped from one of Ginny's green eyes, "and with her rural and second hand dress…"

"And what did you say?" Hermione questioned, real concern spreading all over her expression. She knew how much her friend cared about her family being… poor. Ginny had always been almost as embarrassed as Ron with the fact that they didn't have as many resources as their best friends.

"I punched him on the face."

"You what?" Hermione was caught off guard by that. It was like she had been the one being hit.

"Well done, Gin. You couldn't have done it better," Ron was serious and Hermione could see a sparkle of pride in his eyes, "but I still need to go straighten things up."

Ginny sat and Hermione was at her side right away, as Ron flew out of the room.

"Ron!" Ron turned his face at the sound of Hermione's voice. "Don't do _much_, okay?"

Ron nodded and got out.

"Oh Ginny! He doesn't deserve you! You're no peasant girl. I can't believe he called you that! Because if he had looked at your face and at your eyes, he would have understood that… But he's always been stupid like that! I don't want to a pain but… I think this time you should try someone you know better… someone you know won't let you down… someone your brother approves of for a change…"

"You're not talking about who I think you're talking about, right?"

"No I'm not talking about Neville or Colin-"

"Neither am I! I bet you're talking Harry, right?

"Don't you think that's a good idea?" Hermione blinked her eyes at her friend, in a failed attempt to look like a man.

Ginny sighed. "I liked him for a long time. It may have been a childish crush but the fact is it did hit hard."

"I have the feeling you still have something for him…"

"Maybe I still have…" Ginny gazed at her nails.

"Then try to talk to him! You two have got to know it each other much better throughout the last few years… You shouldn't ask him in the face, just give him some hints! He's not stupid you know?"

"And not as bad as everyone would deduce… Who said real heroes can't be gorgeous _and_ have great asses?"

Christmas passed as it should, full of presents and laughs. Rich in chocolates and snowball fights.

Harry finally asked Ginny to go with him to the ball on Christmas Eve and she kissed him. Harry whispered at her ear that what she just had done was a marvelous idea but it should only be practiced when Ron when wasn't around. But quite often, he demanded, without looking her in the eyes but playing with her finger, gently. Ginny smirked, blushing, and took him to go for a _walk_.

Between smiles and stares, she got a Celt tale book from Ron. Between hands brushing and chuckles, he got a Keeper book from Hermione.

On the New Year's night, they all toasted together, hugging willingly and unwillingly but grinning always. Butterbeer remained on number one at the top of The Most Wanted Drinks. Late that night, he kissed her on the cheek, lightly, to welcome and to take advantage of the new opportunity they had coming with the next twelve months. But Parvati pulled him to their hand-made dance floor to dance like a lion, and the moment slipped.

Hermione got details on everything about Ginny and Harry. But she and Ron seemed to be misleading, taking different directions and he never got to ask her. He tried but it looked as thought the world was against what had been set when they were born.

So the holidays ran, as milk through silky fingers. And classes started off, faster than ever, making the Ball approach even quicker.

As the bell rang, a sea of brown, golden, red and purple heads flew out of professor Binns' class. The majority of the students was sighing, happily, finally the classed had ended. Content, they hugged each other like they were meeting after being apart during a war.

Hermione quickly got up from her seat, between all those couples or groups of friends. Managing to escape form that battle field with only two or three bruises, she was happy when she reached the end of the hall. Quickly stalling and jumping, Hermione saw Josh, who waved at her enthusiastically and mimicked for her to get to a corner and to talk to him. With a yellow smile and ditching from arms, legs and another number of various elements of the human body that had been transformed into enemies to Hermione, she made her way to him.

"Hi."

"Hello, Hermione! You're looking great!"

The girl cocked both eyebrows. "I do? Must be because of my beauty sleep!"

Josh laughed loudly. Too loudly. Ron would have just told her it wasn't the best of jokes, she thought.

"You too!" she tried to sound as sympathetic as he was. Josh didn't really notice her voice trembling. Or if he did he didn't show it.

"So have you seen 'Shrek'?"

"No, it got out only a month ago and we've all been at Hogwarts so I haven't had the chance! Why do you ask?"

"'Cause I know you'd love it and I got the DVD and thought that maybe we could watch it together in Hogsmeade or something… it's not on the perimeter of Hogwarts. You know, I _read_ 'Hogwarts: A History!'"

Josh had stuttered for the first time since she had met him.

"Well… Yeah, maybe sometime! When the weather is more… sunny!"

After that, Hermione thought he would take the conversation as finished.

But he didn't.

"So I was thinking, Hermione- " From there on, Hermione didn't hear a single word Josh mumbled, shouted, whispered or said. As she couldn't look him in the face anymore, her tired gaze drifted to something that was waving frenetically, on the top of his shoulder. Josh had spoken so much that everybody had gone to their Common Rooms or to the next classes. Everybody but _one_.

And one that mattered a lot.

Ron was at the end of the big hall, making signals for her to sneak to a safe place to speak with him. _Probably that important thing Ginny destroyed_.

He had let his hair grow and now it was so long it nearly reached his shoulders. Hermione thought it was "rather sexy" as Ginny thought it wasn't his best. On the other hand, he usually shaved every day but Hermione secretly adored those mornings when the trio _and_ Ginny conferred together, when the sun was stretching his rays lazily on the lake, and Ron left his uncut beard for her (or so she liked to think). When, on those blessed mornings, he caught her staring at his face and he poked her on the cheek, she had the possibility of doing the same. Her fingers skimmed his cheek at first but then she rubbed his chin, smiling, and _their_ moment was perfect.

While Josh continued babbling about something, she noticed Ron's face was unshaved. What for?

'No, oh NO! Do not dare to think of it that way, little missy.' And out of nothing she remembered how his chest had looked like when they had had swam on the lake back in September. Merlin, she had never thought he would be like the actors. Maybe even better. He was muscled and Hermione's next nights were spent dreaming about passing her hands along that strong flesh. And he had this trail of hair between blond and red (if that was possible), that came from the hem of his boxers, stopped on his navel and continued slightly throughout his sinewy sternum. As she came back from her greatest memories, she nodded discreetly at Ron and concentrated on the task of getting away from Josh.

Josh's last words (_it seems like a question; I better answer him_) and Hermione's mixed as she exclaimed, abruptly, "Yeah, sure, Josh! Listen, I really need to go, so… I guess I'll see you around."

Without letting Josh pronounce a single word, Hermione sped up. Hermione ran and as she got to the corner where Ron had been, a strong arm pushed her to a broom closet and she went in willingly.

"Sorry…" Ron said low, as he lit his wand. Her bet was positive; he hadn't shaved.

"Sorry? It is I who needs to thank thee, o brave knight!" Hermione smiled. "I really needed to be rescued…"

"Thought so."

"So… What was that thing that you- wanted to tell me, the other afternoon? You know when Ginny came and then she made you stop and then she grabbed me and all…" It took a lot to ask that. But she did, grinning hopefully.

Ron shifted, apparently uncomfortable. "Well I thought… as you said the other year… after the ball you went with Vicky-" he stopped, gazed deeply at his toes and took a deep, slow breath. He snapped his head up and stared into her chocolate eyes.

"_Would you give me the honour of going with me to the Winterball?"_

"Would you like to go… withmetotheballthing?..."

Josh's unheard but known and Ron's insecure but heartfelt words collided in Hermione's brain and ears, making her head blow.

She had taken it.

She had taken Josh's invitation.

She had said, "Yeah, sure" to Josh question.

"_Would you give me the honour of going with me to the Winterball?"_

Hermione felt dizzy.

She couldn't miss one thing she had said. It wasn't in her nature.

And she had accepted.

"_Would you like to go… withmetotheballthing?"_

She had said yes to… Josh. Not to Ron.

She would have to say no to Ron.

No to… Ron.

"'Mione, are you okay?" Ron's voice was of pure concern and so was his expression when she finally looked up, fearfully. "I knew this wasn't a good idea. I almost scared you to death…"

"Ron…" Hermione, guilty, pulled her hand up to his cheek and wiped with her thumb a flake of snow. She felt the prick of his small hairs more intensely than ever. The next moment she asked something she never got to know why. "What's my favourite movie?"

"Uh?"

"Ron-" Hermione inhaled, trying to find some courage inside her, in the air she breathed into her lungs. She got it from his eyes that were concentrated on her own. The eyes that would hold pain only moments after they got to know what she was about to say with the strength they gave her. "Ron, I- I accepted Josh's invitation…"

Ron's look changed. His face got unreadable but his eyes showed so much grief Hermione felt she was going to cry with them. But he didn't spill any tears. He was Ronald Weasley. He turned around to leave, leaving her eyes with no comfort and her heart with no light. But as he reached the doorknob she felt a hesitation on the air. He stopped, sighed almost imperceptibly and got out.

He left her in the dark but she knew she had been dragged there by her own mistake.

They didn't speak. They didn't look. They wondered, flying around each other, like two butterflies, in circles, searching, searching, searching silently but never reaching what they had in front of themselves.

The evening eventually came and so did the next morning. When the sun hit the windows of both their dorms, the light slid on to their beds, snaked through their revolted sheets and waked them at the same time. As they gasped for air, on their own beds, the thought flash on their minds together:

The dreadful day had come.

A/N: And thus ends the "official" first chapter of "Trying To…".

Don't miss the next episode because we won't!

p.s. review for my writer's sake…


	3. Unaware of the Darkness

A/N: I've just discovered how difficult it is to write a fan fic! And these inspiration crises… Please don't kill me! (you'll know why by the end of this chapter…) I tried but I really couldn't! I took the liberty of "using" one of my favourite books here… The book Hermione's reading is "The Daughter of the Forest" by Juliet Marillier. I strongly recommend it and the Sevenwaters trilogy. I know it's a Muggle book but can't we just pretend and admit that Ron can enter a Muggle bookstore to buy something for the love of his life!  
I wanna thank you all people that are reading this, because just reading is for itself awesome. And THANK YOU SOO MUCH for all the reviews, you people are amazing!

MG – The things are italicised, you know… When it's the voice speaking it's between 'one apostrophe' and real Hermione it's in italic… Ok? But thanks for your review!

cigictj – Temperamental! Don't know if that was a destructive comment but I liked it! I AM temperamental! Thanks, loved the review...

HermioneM – Glad you thought him adorable cause I really want him to be adorable! That's how all guys should be right? Thanks for the two reviews!

Trying To…  
by mionetwin

Chapter Three  
"Unaware of the Darkness"

The dreadful day had come.

The moment her eyes flew open and she breathed in anxiously, her insides started wallowing and jumping even more than they had done while she was sleeping. Nightmares had filled her whole night and she could feel her hands on fire as the day wasn't going to be quieter. When Hermione looked around and concluded that every girl in the dorm was still sleeping, she cautiously got down from her bed. For the first time in her life, she was able to find her slippers; they were right in front of her. The one thing she had never found before was something to put on her feet, but when her mind started flowing with those lost sentences and hurtful words, she didn't pay any attention to that curious fact. 

_Would you like to go… withmetotheballthing?_

You're looking great!

Mione, are you ok?

Forcing long breaths into her lungs, Hermione got dressed in the complete darkness that suddenly lodged in her eyes. _You are not going to cry._ When the tears threatened to fall from the borders of her heart, when she found Ron's painful eyes, staring at her, asking "why," Hermione couldn't resist anymore.

As silently as she could, with her heart pounding hard, she stalked to the bathroom and closed the door as she leaned against it. Unable to stand, her legs shaking uncontrollably, Hermione slipped to the floor slowly while her eyes became blurry and her nose red. The floor was like ice through her thick jeans. At least she felt it. At least it was something more than the coldness she sensed, crawling and scratching deep in the walls of her soul. One of her tears fell on her jeans and she gazed at its simplicity.

The place where her tear rested, splashed against the fabric, reminded her of Ron's orbs once again. Those eyes were full of feelings, feelings many people didn't care about. But she did! It worried her so much how he was right now. She knew what she had done was unpardonable; she knew she hadn't the right of doing those things to him. After the Yule Ball row, fifth year had been… strange. For some reason they had gone different directions. That separation hadn't pleased Hermione in any way. When sixth year started, though, there was some kind of silent agreement they could indeed be best friends. It was as if they both knew something very beautiful was happening between them, but that they weren't quite prepared to explore it and lose another thing – their friendship. Maybe they did know each other's feelings or maybe they didn't even know about their own. The fact was they were fighting again and that assured Hermione that he still cared about her.

And the Winter Ball…

Tons of thoughts made their way through her head, related to that stupid thing which had caused maybe even more damage than Krum. At first, she had thought it wonderful for their relationship, to take it to another level. She felt able to handle such a thing. Later, she thought better and fear washed her over. What if he didn't ask her? What if he only asked her to have someone to go with? What if he asked her to make someone else jealous? But the worst happened. Josh asked her and she accepted his invitation. She had a reason, but it had been a mistake! The stupidest mistake she had ever made…

What really maddened her was that Ron hadn't even let her explain! Maybe if she told him what had happened he would have snapped her playfully on the arm and ordered her to tell Josh she was having problems and couldn't go with him to the Ball. Then Ron could suggest they could spend the day in the empty Common Room or by the lake. Alone.

But Ron didn't want to hear her or even look at her.

Maybe he had done it out of revenge, something she hadn't noticed in him before, but…

Ron invited another girl.

Hermione's heart got ripped from her chest when she saw them talking and laughing in the middle of the Hall. He played with the ends of her hair and she stepped in closer, then he kissed her on the cheek. Hermione took a deep, sudden breath and stared at them. 'Get out. Get out of here!' something inside screamed out of pure instinct. Hermione ran, running from all limbs, cheeks, and kisses. She entered the library and stalked until she found a wall. Without even breathing, she turned to her left and discovered the dusty, unknown, unvisited Muggle section.

It became her haven for she hadn't the courage to return to her tower. It was too high, too bright, and it had too many memories…

Hermione leaned her head against the door as the tears continued rolling down her cheeks. There was no one there to wipe them with their lips.

Several minutes later, Hermione lifted her numb body from her place on the floor and walked calmly to the mirror.

"Oh look at you dear! What happened?" Without giving her a chance to explain, the mirror kept babbling. "Honey, you really need to don some make up. Have you looked at the mirror?" The feminine voice giggled uncontrollably. "Of course! Put some blush on the cheeks but please first clean your fa- "

"Thank you very much, but I really… don't worry please!" Hermione snapped, sternly, with a failed attempt at a smile. The mirror huffed and made her reflection fatter.

_Like I care. No one does._

The girl washed her too-red nose and face, and then passed a brush through her wild hair without even glancing at her figure. She was able to storm off to the loo quite soundlessly. As she passed her bed, she took the book she had slept with and left entangled in her sheets, and left the dorm.

Hermione quickly reached the Great Hall. It was indeed very early, she concluded as she looked at the windows; the glass glistened in roses, oranges and yellows of all types. She was surprised that there were only around five people distributed amongst all the Houses. Even the Professors' Table wasn't very occupied.

_Snape, Sprout, Dumbledore – always smiling, McGonagall – obviously, she probably doesn't even know how to sleep_

Hermione felt the urge to clap her hand over her mouth when she realised she had thought something bad of a teacher, other than Snape of course. She could almost hear Harry's voice say, "it's about bloody time!"

_Slytherin – no one. Understandable. Ravenclaw – one, two… four. Early risers, but I do not know them… Hufflepuff – Hannah and Ernie. Hum… Gryffindor-_

Oh no.

There was only one Gryffindor besides herself in the big room, and it had to be the one Hermione was still unsure about. She hadn't made up her mind if she wanted to meet him or just disappear from the earth so she could avoid his blue gaze. She just couldn't answer that key question, because the instant Hermione took two or three steps towards the tables, Ron pulled his head up and glanced at her.

Confused, Hermione didn't know how to read his glance. Was it a hateful glance? A pitying one? Perhaps a hurt glance? A glance of sorrow? An angry one? All she knew was that for a single, lost moment she saw something else. For the last several days, Ron's eyes had been… well foggy. His clear sky-blue look had clouded, as if rain was approaching, threatening to fall at any time with no previous notice. Beneath the surface, there was a faint light, an undesired thought crossed Ron's mind. Something nobody else knew but Hermione got the opportunity to sense, either consciously or unconsciously on Ron's part. Now she was certain it was a feeling Ron was unsure about; she noticed the doubt in his eyes. Immediately, the mask was back, that feeling again hidden and his eyes regained that dark blue which had remained on his looks since they had last spoken.

Ron's gaze rapidly returned to the plate in front of him. It was too empty for one of Ron's plates. He clearly hadn't eaten any food but it was still incredibly empty for his breakfast plate. A piece of toast, three strips of bacon, and a mug with milk or something was all it contained. Ron's plate was usually the fullest of the trio's. Plus, he wasn't shovelling food into his mouth as he usually did.

Hermione sat quietly, some seats down from him, on the opposite side of the table. Occasionally, she glanced shyly at Ron but he never looked back. When he got up to go wherever he was going, to do whatever he was going to do, with… whomever he was going with, he walked past her but she thought he looked like he was blind, even though his yes were wide open.

Feeling defeated as he passed through the doorway, Hermione threw the fork she had been holding, but had never actually used, onto her plate. Had she known that when Ron left the Great Hall he instantly leaned on a nearby wall, breathing heavily with his eyes firmly shut, maybe she would have gone after him. All she did, though, was stare out the window, at the blue sky that made her feel there was actually a way. Was there? She didn't know. Her mind was full of possible scenarios, not decisions. Her only wish was to go back two weeks in time.

When the Great Hall became more and more suffocating for Hermione, because of all the students happily entering and laughing, she allowed herself to escape from there.

She thought she couldn't stand the idea of crossing with Harry or Ginny. As friendly as they had been, what with trying to help her or at least understand what had happened, Hermione knew she couldn't face them right now.

As she had done in her spare hours the last few days, Hermione went to the Muggle section of the library. It had a big window with a marvelous view to the lake. There was a kind of seat on the wall right under the window and she spent her days there, reading the book… Ron had given her by Christmas. The story was about a girl divided between her work to save her six brothers from a spell and her growing but silent love for the enemy that captured her. The book was beautiful and made her cry violently but soundlessly, her back shaking, her face hidden in her hands.

On that dreadful day, Hermione was reading her favourite chapters, a single tear rolling down her face. Suddenly, she thought she heard a gasp come from the last shelf, near the corner that revealed her haven. When she looked up, prepared to face Neville or Seamus, maybe even Malfoy, she thought she saw a flicker of red hair near the end of the section. Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard. When she saw no more movement, Hermione closed her eyes, forcing an awkward thought out of her mind.

_Not him. No. Stop. Not. NOT HIM!_

When she managed to calm herself, she dried her tears once again, then ran away from the library.

_Hagrid's cabin! No. Harry and Gin may be there. Maybe the lake. Today no one is going to be-_

'You now where you really want to go, don't you?'

_Finally showing up. What's the cause of such a sudden appearance?_

'You know as well as I do that I've always been here. You were the one who shut me up. You have that power… (Very badly handled, I might add)'

_So what do you suggest, Your Highness?_

'You know damned well, young missy!'

Sometimes, it was good to have an inner voice.

Carrying only her book, Hermione climbed the stairs that led to her tower.

_Yep. Still the same._

Glancing around and feeling the cold penetrate her clothes, Hermione felt at home.

Hermione stayed there the whole day and, even thought she shivered hard sometimes, not once did the thought of leaving cross her mind. The book had captured her entire self in a way only Ron could. Only Ron could have known she would feel the book the way she did. Eventually, night started to fall and sadly cover the sun. Not able to read anymore and knowing what was coming scant hours ahead, she slowly rose from her bench.

If only she could make it up to Ron… Make him know she loved him…

Between these thoughts, Hermione came down from the tower and finally reached the Fat Lady. After mumbling the password (fwooper) and receiving a concerned look and comment from the guard (Honey dear, you look down! Cheer up, tonight's the ball), she entered the Gryffindor Common Room. It seemed as though someone had flushed out the dorms because every Gryffindor was here. Everybody smiled their foolish grins and made their foolish jokes. Everybody seemed to make fun of her. However, there was someone by the window, looking out at the dark snow covering the fields. The boy turned around and eyed Hermione with deep, gloomy blue eyes.

She had nothing else to do but run up the stairs to her dormitory.

If Hermione thought she was escaping from the crowd, she was sorely mistaken. When she entered the dorm, all she heard were giggles and shrieks and all she saw were glittering dresses and shiny lip-gloss. Avoiding every girl possible, she reached her trunk from which she pulled a dress so profoundly blue it matched Ron's pained eyes.

_There is nothing to do. I just have to go. Even if my pair isn't- There is no way out… I really just have to-_

As soon as she had her dress on, Hermione opened a bottle of _Anti-Even-More-Frizzier-Lotion from Madame L'Ove_ and squeezed some of its contents into her palm. Brushing it through her hair, she remembered she hadn't agreed on a place to meet Josh. She hadn't talked with him since _the_ day. During the last few days, Hermione had discovered she had some aptitude when it came to avoiding people.

_He'd find me either way._

Hermione knew perfectly well that Josh would wait at the bottom of the stairs, with his foolish grin and foolish jokes.

_There is no escape._

Without letting any tears escape from her liquid eyes, Hermione flawlessly used her black eye liner (old, received from her mother). Careful not to step on anyone, she reached the bathroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. No such luck, though. Even though it had treated her rudely in the morning, she couldn't help it. This was an element of feminine nature.

_What the hell…_

'Since when did you start cursing!'

_Please…_

'OK. Just thought you needed my help…'

_I do._

With her inner voice silently agreeing, Hermione pulled two strands of her honey-brown hair and held them to the back of her head with two black hairpins. Carelessly, she passed light pink lip-gloss across her lips and pulled her black cloak over her shoulders. Hermione stepped out of the dormitory, her mantle flying behind her, as she blindly accepted the start of the most painful night of her life.

'Amazing how sadness can be beautiful…'

A/N: my dearest readers: I thought of continuing this chapter until the end of the Ball. Then I re-thought and I decided to make you suffer a little longer! I want to see them together too! But I was losing inspiration and couldn't write such a chapter without my dear, dear inspiration! (although if you keep on reviewing the inspiration comes back faster:grin:) Anyway, I have to ask you if you think I should have developed this chapter in feelings-like and all. Not about keeping until the ball but Hermione being sad and all. What do you think?  
Promise my next chapter will be longer, snower and fluffier! I hate angst. I love fluff!


	4. Unaware of the Snow

Disclaimer: You know, I've said all of this is JK Rowling's property. Well… I was lying! Because I DO have something of my own here! AHAH Josh is mine and the tower (even though it's in Hogwarts… which is JK's…)! Erm… I do have something then… right? The rest: Hermione, Ron (:sigh:), Harry, Gin, and the rest of paradise are JK's…

A/N: The Ball. Here you have it. The complete, entire Winter Ball. Now…

READ!

Trying To...

by mionetwin

Chapter Four

"Unaware of the Snow"

"_Shakespeare in Love, Artificial Intelligence, West Side Story_"

Hermione stood near a dark corner, by a frosty window that showed in the blurriest way she could think of the streets of Hogsmeade at night. With all the joke shops closed and all the pubs shut, the pavement was silent and the crowd vanished. The only sounds heard and light seen came from the big room that welcomed the Hogwarts students. The girl's sad gaze concentrated on the pairs circling gracefully in front of her, open grins or playful smirks on their faces as their eyes glistened with the candles spread over the bright area. But her eyes were empty and mournful, as her lost stare roamed through the couples as they danced forwards and backwards, a mix of giggles and kisses. However, when Hermione listened, the last voice she would expect to hear whispering the most improbable words, she whirled around, holding her breath.

_Blindly, Hermione descended the stairs to the Great Hall, after passing through the Gryffindor Common Room and by all the students with the same destination. Only, she wasn't thrilled and excited to reach it._

_Blankly wondering where her partner was, the girl heard someone call her name jauntily in the middle of all those people. Too many people giggling and smiling and breathing._

"_Hermione!"_

_Hoping the person wasn't who he had to be, wishing to see the eyes that reminded her of red and chocolate frogs and sweaters and… Even though Hermione closed her eyes and prayed as hard as she had ever prayed, when she slid her eyelids open carefully, the person grinning stupidly in front of her wasn't the person with the soft smile. Instead, Josh stood there as she had always known he would._

"_Good night," Josh greeted. Hermione tried to move the muscles of her face, since she didn't trust her voice completely. Apparently, Josh was happy with that failed attempt of a smile, giving her his arm. Hermione interlaced her hand there in a way she hope showed interest._

"_So… Hermione, why did you run away from me the day I… I invited you? I couldn't find you on the following days, either. I was worried!"_

_Hermione took some time to assimilate what Josh had asked her. She would have never expected him to say something like that so directly. Her head snapped up in his direction while her brain strained itself to find a worthy excuse. Hermione's lips parted slightly only to close again before she was finally able to speak._

"_Er… You know, I felt… I felt something in my stomach- have you ever felt like you have a snake there- and I thought I had caught something the day before, a cold or something, and… I definitely didn't want you to be ill!" Hermione blinked at the last part._

'_Where did that come from? The bottom of your heart?'_

_Josh swallowed, visibly perturbed. "Well… thanks, I guess."_

_Josh laughed. She forced a low giggle. Josh continued talking about everything: Hogwarts, teachers, and Quidditch (he somehow had a different view of game, not the same one Ron and Harry had), as the crowd around them led them to the magic carpets that would take them to Hogsmeade._

_Once Josh and Hermione got on the carpet, the colourful cloth moved mildly and lifted itself into the air. Hermione unbalanced and Josh caught her promptly. He grinned and she thanked him in a low, shy voice, while looking around as other couples flew by. The pair passing by, accelerating recklessly as if to show others of the carpet's capability was one that made Hermione's heart burn down to ashes in seconds._

_Ron sat, murmuring encouraging words to the rug, while his company was talking happily at his side, with her hand on his elbow. Megan was the Ravenclaw Ron had asked to the Ball. Maybe because of her known inability to study (many wondered how she had gone to that House) or maybe because of her astonishing beauty, Hermione preferred not to acknowledge the reasons that caused Ron to ask her. Megan had good grades and wasn't as bad of student as everybody thought; she just wasn't preoccupied with classes as her Ravenclaw colleagues were. Hermione had once worked on an essay with her for Professor McGonagall. They had, indeed, got a wonderful mark and Hermione could never complain about Megan not working because the girl had done her share exquisitely. They had become what you might call friends as they ended the task. Hermione held the girl in high consideration. Over the two years after their essay they had spoken sometimes, the talk you have with someone you do not know very well but always promise to yourself you'll know better next time. Since "Hi, how are you?" were the usual chosen words, their friendship hadn't developed much. Still, Hermione respected Megan. But she also knew about all the male heads that turned in Megan's direction when she walked with her Ravenclaw friends laughing in the halls. Her black, straight hair cascading down her back, along with her expressive grey eyes and her full cherry-like red lips, helped get all that attention. Not to mention the… curves all over her body, in the right places, that made every boy talk._

_Then Ron had asked Megan. And Hermione got something jabbed in her soul. And that something itched her insides at the sight of Ron and Megan on the flying carpet together; she had to close her eyes for the tears not to leak._

_But when Hermione felt the wind running freely through her strands of hair, sweeping all feelings from her eyes to the endless sky, she felt calm as she hadn't felt in a week. Observing the grounds hidden by the layer of snow, the nearly frozen lake and Hogwarts itself, the waves of sunset reaching out to the horizon, Hermione sighed, shifting in her kneeling position. Josh didn't speak, but she felt his look sometimes lock on her face. Hermione turned in his direction and smiled weakly. Josh beamed… understandably and while he stared around once again, she felt abashed at his sudden comprehension._

_Or maybe not._

_The rest of the journey to Hogsmeade didn't give her enough time to decide on what to do, nor to enjoy the liberty of feeling the air washing her face. In no time (or so it felt to Hermione), they were landing on a part of Hogsmeade she didn't know. Finally, she understood that they were on the opposite side of the Station where they got on the Hogwarts Express twice every year. When the carpet hit the snow-covered grass with a light thud, Hermione noticed the glade at the end of a forest where an opening showed some small houses. Everybody got up from the magic rugs, some with quite some difficulty, like Neville who needed help from his partner, a very calm Luna who said something about carpets having the same behaviour as Hagrid's book – The Monster Book of Monsters - and headed out of the clearing._

When Hermione turned around, she finally saw that soft face in front of her. Ron Weasley had been behind her and until he purred those words beside her ear, she hadn't noticed his presence. Her stomach flipped violently only to land near her lungs. Strangely, they weren't managing to process oxygen as they usually did with success. A closer goggle-eyed look showed Hermione that Ron wasn't angry. He was quite amused, she noticed, since the corners of his lips curved into a smirk.

"Muggle films that is. Magical ones…"

As Ron's voice trailed off, Hermione risked murmuring as well.

"You never took me to any magical films," she replied quietly and simply as she searched in his eyes for signs of… anything. They looked as though they were clearer…or probably it was just her imagination working overtime.

Ron eyed her calmly and the right corner (_always the right one_) of his lips rose to a gentle smile. He took a step toward her and affectionately pulled a curl of her hair. She sighed quietly, biting her lip, and Ron turned to gaze at the dancing pairs, twirling around, each one oblivious to the rest of the world around them.

"How do you feel about being part of a love triangle in which you are _not_ the one in control or the one using the Love Potion?"

Hermione smacked Ron playfully on the arm and he caught her wrist swiftly, only to put it back on the side of her body. She narrowed her eyes at him and smiled dangerously.

"I'd say _square_." Hermione nodded discreetly at the nearest couple dancing happily: Josh and Megan.

_Hermione never got to know what made everybody go the same way or who was at the top of the crowd leading them to the right place, but truth be said, they all got there safe and sound. After wandering between those warm-looking houses with low windows hiding a very cosy light, the Hogwarts students reached what they thought was an abandoned and ramshackle warehouse, which was coated in white. From the outside, its walls were partly-destroyed and certain portions showed signs of corrosion but when the suspicious crowd entered they found one really big room. It was lit by thousands of candles, floating near the ceiling or lower so students could see their pink flames. On one side there were some tables filled with food, looking amazingly appetizing. Hermione imagined Ron would fly to the table that held the pudding section, exposing every possible sweet from Honeydukes and, Hermione concluded because she didn't recognize them, some produced exclusively for that night's party. But she wondered about that and about the name that hurt her so much, that slashed her soul, and the tears started burning behind her eyes. However, the red-haired boy was nowhere to be seen and Megan looked quite lost, walking around in her light pink dress, probably trying to find him. Slowly, the stinging behind Hermione's eyes started to subside as she compelled herself not to look for him, too. On the other side of the hall were two doors, which she presumed were the Ladies and Gents , but the most amazing thing was at the middle of the room._

_The biggest piano she had ever seen sat in the centre of the brilliant dance floor, the gleaming darkness of the imposing instrument silenced every possible phrase said, cut every possible breath drawn_._ Everyone stood in amazement, not really knowing why it was so attractive, as it was just a musical instrument, something to play music. But all the students were anxious to hear sound coming from it. When a man entered the hall no looks were directed at him until he reached the piano._

_Albus Dumbledore sat, throwing his night-blue cloak over the small stool. Even though he knew every eye in the room was concentrated on him, the Hogwarts Headmaster started playing the piano perfectly. As he touched the narrow white and black bars carefully but confidently, in that way only Dumbledore could, and as the chords and music and feelings filled the ears and souls of every student, a couple took the honour of stepping onto the floor to dance. That couple was Harry and Ginny, sliding, eyes focused on each other and truthful smiles spread over their lips. Whoever looked up to the ceiling at the moment (although nobody was very interested in doing so) would see the candles, moving swiftly and clustering in pairs. They approached, somehow bowed, pink flames touching, and then started rounding and soaring through the air along with the music. If the point was to urge the students to the floor it was successful, for soon more (human) couples joined them and suddenly, Josh was gently pushing Hermione to dance too. Swallowing hard, Hermione placed her hands on his shoulders as he put his on her waist. Obviously, Josh was much more at ease than she was, she could feel Josh's body relax while she stiffened, her moves tense. Hermione got into the music slowly but never forgot who she was with. Because everywhere she looked she saw Ron dancing with Megan, those dark eyes stalking her._

_When Dumbledore's agile fingers held slightly on the last bar, creating a long last note of farewell, every couple lazily stopped and stared at the Headmaster, who smiled back. As he stood up and looked around, Dumbledore's voice resounded in the Hall, reaching everyone as if he was speaking to each one alone in his office._

"_Good night, my students. I have been as happy as I am now, only a few blessed days of my long life. And being able to tell you this here, in this very place, while watching all of you, laughing together, is as gratifying as it can get for any teacher. But I still question why the other professors aren't here saying this speech along with me, because they've been with you all these years along with me and… Well, most of them haven't had _much_ physical damage from classes, even though Madame Pomfrey knows them very well, too." Laughs echoed through the room. Dumbledore paused and breathed in deeply. His eyes were unfocused and veiled with grief. _

"_The truth is, even though you have the undeniable privilege to be happy during this time, Voldemort," Hermione wondered how there could still be people quivering and looking at both sides at the sound of the enemy's name, "has done the undoable. He has stolen your youth from you. With this war, he is forcing all of you to grow up too fast. However something everybody has the right to is a loving, happy childhood full of pranks and mistakes. Of course none of you likes to be called a child anymore. Adolescents, forgive me," Dumbledore beamed wryly before speaking again. _

"_This is indeed that particular moment of your life, when suddenly everything is new and right and wonderful and you have the chance to experience it all, to take all that into yourself. It's _your_ time to err and understand how to act in each situation. It's _your_ time to learn the lessons you'll need all your life. Definitely no one has the right to take that time from you. That time when you discover how far you can go or how difficult it is to reach what you desire so fervently. That time when you find some things, hidden so stupidly well all those past years that even being right under your nose you didn't understand them. That time when you develop into the wizards you will be for as long as you breathe. Basically that time you do as many mistakes as you can or so it seems. _

"_Some of you may have thought, before deciding to come to this Ball, how dangerous it could get for you to leave Hogwarts. You must know, though, that even in our school you are not fully-protected. The Hogwarts Council works everyday to make you feel safe inside its perimeter and surroundings. We do more than our best. But we also know about your teenage… needs. So for our students to feel secure but enjoy their lives, we organized this Ball. The Yule Ball two years ago wasn't a full success for everyone and… everyone should get a second chance. Even though not every student is allowed to attend, I can assure you the rest of your younger colleagues are having a good time themselves at the castle. And I believe you all liked the design of the Ball announcement. I left it to someone more talented than me in those matters, Professor Trelawney." _

_While some polite claps were heard from the back, Hermione stole a glance at Ron, who was looking at her again with that unreadable expression in his eyes. She never managed to smile even a small smile at him because Dumbledore finished his discourse, making her turn her gaze towards him again. _

"_You deserve all this. With _all_ these words I hope I open a night full of mended errors, new hopes, and fun."_

_With what Hermione thought was an imperceptible wink in her direction, Dumbledore made a gesture towards the dance floor and steeped back to meet the rest of the professors at a corner. A smart student remembered what was supposed to be done at the end of a speech and clapped. Other students joined and soon the entire Hall was cheering as well. Talk slowly came back in full force, as did the dancing, when an upbeat music started._

_Hermione danced another time with Josh. Even though the Ball wasn't as she had always dreamed, her heart warmed and she felt something like…a new hope without any foundation. Except Dumbledore's words._

"How do _you_ feel about being used as an instrument to make someone else jealous?" Hermione snapped mischievously at Ron.

"It actually doesn't… hurt." Ron looked at her and as he saw her sceptical expression, he quickly added "I should, shouldn't I? For being played with, with my feelings, my delicate, fragile feelings! Oh!" Ron whisked the front of his hand to his forehead theatrically and sniffed desperately.

"Oh! How I understand you, my dear, oh, how I do!" Soon, they were laughing madly, clutching their stomachs. As their madness turned into sudden cackles, an awkward moment appeared. After some time of looking at the couples gliding across the room again, Ron gasped, "Want to go for a walk?"

Hermione stared at his blue eyes and nodded, smiling lightly. Ron got her cloak and held onto her shoulders as she pulled it on.

"Thanks," Hermione whispered quietly when he opened the door for her and they stepped into the sharp cold that instantly wrapped both of them.

"_You know something; you guys should go to the circus!"_

_Harry and Ginny's eyebrows jumped at Hermione's comment._

"_Really?" Ginny asked slowly. "Why, may we ask?"_

"_The ADDoPaW!" Hermione exclaimed as she moved her hands horizontally in the air to mimic a circus announcement._

"_What!"_

"_I mean," Hermione ceremoniously cleared her throat, "The Amazing Dancing Duo of Potter and Weasley! Uh, what do you think?"_

_With very wide eyes, they both took a close look at their friend before chuckling._

"_Now really. You two dance extraordinarily and… well… you know how someone's jokes lose their magic when the comedienne isn't at her best," Hermione sighed. "Now go, go, young couple! I know what it's like having to stand a sad person at a Ball!"_

_Ginny glanced at her concernedly. "You sure?" Harry followed her look and eyed Hermione suspiciously._

"_Sure! Go on and have fun." Hermione tried to sound friendly, enthusiastic, and reassuring, but the current situation and her temper weren't helping. Having danced with Josh twice, then avoiding his and Ron's looks, and having her partner disappear mysteriously after going for drinks wasn't making the night at all famous._

_Ginny kissed her lightly on the cheek while Harry tapped her shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile before they returned to the dance._

_They were amazing friends, Hermione mused, and they had been there trying to include her, wasting time from their fantastic night But what Hermione would never let happen was permitting her friends to lose their precious time because she couldn't get over a fight with Ron._

'_Fight?'_

_Well, it hadn't been a fight… It had been her mistake completely. Ron wasn't guilty at all. She had been the one who had accepted Josh invitation._

'_Who, by the way, is dancing with Megan in the middle of the dance floor at the present moment.'_

_Well, that was indeed quite a surprise!_

_Hermione was confused. Six years at Hogwarts being the top student of her year and solving all kinds of mysteries side by side with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley weren't helping her to understand the scene playing in front of her. Megan and Josh were dancing, _not_ as friends, that was for sure. At least Hermione would never put her whole tongue down Harry's throat, as Megan was currently doing. Yuck! Now, Ron's throat was a whole other and different thing… Although seeing Josh with a another girl, glued to her, whispering in her ear, didn't start off any alarms in Hermione's head or boil any kind of feeling inside her. She should feel outrage and rage and… but… nope, none of that!_

_Hermione smiled to herself, her brows snapped together in concentration. Then something lightened her spirits. Of course!_

'_Finally, you oaf!'_

Shut up, would you?

_Josh liked Megan and Megan liked Josh. And she had been put in the middle out of pure hormonal impulses. And Ron, too. Simple as two and two is five, she thought. Why she hadn't noticed it first was the question that floated in her mind._

_At least until she heard the voice that made her stomach flutter uncontrollably._

Once they were outside, cold stung their warm bodies. Wind blew from everywhere but Hermione felt so free and finally, happy rings of tawny hair escaped to her face. Ron and she were talking! She could finally talk to him and explain and apologize.

'If you really do have Gryffindor courage to do it!'

_I have. I do. I just want to keep this- state a bit longer…_

"Hey... Did I get them right?" His voice echoed a little between the houses, the pitch-black that surrounded them forcing them even closer together.

"The movies?"

Ron nodded.

"Yeah, we may say you did." Hermione went on ambling along the streets of Hogsmeade. She knew she had just left Ron near-exploding, doubt filling him to the borders, confusion blinding him, her last words defying his patience. In that precise moment Ron should be breathing in just-

"Exactly what do you mean by saying 'we may'! That's no answer!" His tone was of complete snorting and Hermione could see the grin he had on his lips even with her back turned towards him.

"Well, I meant…" Hermione started, while turning around to face him because he had been left behind, stopping when she'd spoken. But when she saw it, Ron was far closer than she had thought he was; he was right… in… front… of… her… lips…

'He is definitely hindering this platonic conversation…'

Without thinking, Hermione moved towards the bench propped against the shop's wall (_Mr. van Inkov's Shop – The Quill for Every Bill_). Ron's firm hand stopped her from going anywhere and when his fingers gently grabbed her arm, Hermione froze. The eyes, observing her, were the same ones she had known for the last six years. And as something twinkled in the middle, she noticed that they were indeed clearer. A great storm was grouping in them, but then a gentle breeze came and drove away those heavy clouds. The deep blue, turning slowly into a slight grey, was replaced with the sky blue Hermione liked so much. Those blue orbs that sparkled with anger in _her_ direction, that had shone with something like jealousy in _her_ direction…

"So was I right?" Ron whispered in her ear, while her spirit was weak with the blue of his eyes, was making her knees yield while her legs would fail on her completely in a minute or so. But against all possibilities, her voice stood up for her and remained untouched by the subtle tricks of nervousness. Hermione proved so when she heard her own words, completely at ease.

"I was trying to make you understand that you missed some and exaggerated others," she smiled brightly.

"Which?" Ron had always had the ability to string together difficult things to talk about into just one word.

"Uh…" Hermione scratched her chin in deep thought. "For one thing, I loved _Artificial Intelligence_ but I don't quite know if I can put it on my favourite list, you know? The last scene perhaps…"

"And…"

"And you forgot _Sense and Sensibility_." She poked her finger in his chest, as if it was in fact the most obvious thing in the world. "_That_ is one of my favourites!"

"Oh…" Ron nodded comprehendingly as a smile crept to his face, "Why?"

"Why _Sense and Sensibility_? Or why the rest?"

"All."

"Because my biggest characteristic is irremediable romanticism."

"Oh."

"Hidden characteristic."

"Oh."

"For most people."

"Oh."

"Along with my thing… for comics…"

"Oh," Ron nodded. But then his eyes shot to the size of dishes, not bread dishes or fruit dishes but two big, white soup dishes, capable of holding an entire meal for Ron. "You? Hermione Granger reads comics? You? As in _The_ Hermione Granger?"

_The_ Hermione Granger made a sign as 'yes,' sighing deeply. She was just wondering about his last comment when she heard him again.

"Right," laughed Ron. But when he saw her expression, the blazing eyes almost melting down the snow, slightly squinted, the head cocked to the left, the lips partly-open and the teeth biting the tongue, his chuckles ended abruptly. Ron put on a more serious voice to continue, "You. You, Hermione Granger, best student and all. Reading comics is not an image I can create in my mind." Hermione could see the muscles under his robes moving when he shuddered falsely, so she chewed her tongue harder. "I mean… I thought you didn't read anything with pictures! Or with sentences that might have less than three words and monosyllabic on top!"

Rage was quick as it filled her to the top, as she felt her cheeks flush. She just couldn't bite her tongue forever, now could she? And before Hermione knew it, she was shouting, her voice echoing on the badly illuminated streets, "Well, I could never imagine you'd know a word as big as 'monosyllabic'!" Fury had taken command of her vocal cords. It was true…

Ron walked over to the store, eyes on the floor, and perched himself on the tiny space of the windowsill, with his feet on the bench. For the first time in her life (and ignoring the voice screaming, "You'll be dirtying the seat! That's where other people put their butts, trusting on the Minister of Magic that it will be clean!"), Hermione silently reached him and sat by his side, feeling his thigh touching her, the warmth of both bodies shared. But Ron kept looking down, so she was startled when he spoke in low, deep voice, "Sorry."

Hermione opened her mouth to object. "I should have believed from the beginning that you did, indeed… read comics. I'm sorry." He paused, "But you know, you have to agree that Herm- "

"Hey! OK, I get it. If you really are sorry…" Hermione smirked, as an idea flashed through her mind. "Well… have you ever seen _West Side Story_?"

Ron lifted his head, brows knitted, and glanced at Hermione, who met his look with a knowing grin.

"Yeah…" he said slowly and carefully. She knew what Ron was thinking: her face couldn't mean something good.

She smiled innocently before saying, "You can always sing _I Feel Pretty_ for forgiveness!"

Ron eyed her incredulously. She might as well have punched him in the stomach and said she was Voldemort's wife: she would have had the same reaction. His face was a true picture of disbelief; the eyes wide open, so open she could see the streaks of blood starting to form on the edges. The interrupted respiration, as oxygen was only inhaled when his nose began making some very strange noises. A vein on the side of his neck, strongly pulsing. Only she knew how much she wanted to touch it… First, Ron blinked many times. Then, he breathed in quite deeply before finally pronouncing hoarsely…

"No."

"Oh, come on. You need my pardon!"

"Not if it has to be obtained in any way similar to that."

"If you prefer, the song can be _The Jets_."

"No."

"Or _Gee, Officer Krupke_, if you feel more comfortable with that one."

"No."

"You can't have _America_, because that one's for me! Oh, come on! Don't be such a sissy! You want me to forgive you, don't you? And I've never heard your voice… so…"

"You don't want to hear me sing. Trust me."

"_Maria_?"

"No singing."

"Is it because it's an American film? Didn't know that particular dark feature… What have they done to you?"

'Silence is golden.'

"You know what? You're no fun." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

"Go on, sulk. But you can be sure you won't be hearing any sound resembling a note coming from this throat over here." Ron pointed to his own neck with such violence he had to wait until Hermione looked at her hands again to rub the sore spot furiously, mad at his own stupidity. But she saw his fingers moving up.

After a moment of heavy silence, once Hermione understood he was _not_ going to sing and she couldn't be mad at him again, she spoke.

"So, how do you know my favourite films?"

Ron thought for a while. "I guess you told me."

Hermione looked at him from the corner of her eye and smiled, "When?"

"That day. In Snape's dungeon."

Her breathing cut off abruptly and the wind stabbed her eyes with even more intensity.

Snape's dungeon day.

_Uh… Erm…_

Imagine Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley locked in a cold, damp classroom belonging to their dear Professor Snape, obviously in a place resembling the most horrid catacombs you can think of. Yes, cold and damp. And Hermione with only her shirt, having forgotten her jumper in the Gryffindor Common Room (she had to do _that_ on _that_ specific day). And Ron felt unusually chivalrous and nice and sexy at the time.

They could have only spoken about one thing.

Films.

'Of course!'

Hermione blinked twice as she felt the blood creep to her cheeks. When Ron turned his gaze towards her, she saw his eyes smiling. She felt her heart lighten up with true joy.

"Ron…"

"Yes, 'Mione…"

"Why… uh, why aren't you with… erm… Megan?" the flush was fully rising to her face when she vainly tried to finish the sentence. Ron's eyes moved lower to his feet when she saw the tip of his ears turning light pink again in an adorable way.

"Because she wants Josh. Your date." Hermione remained silent. "I guess there's no point in asking you the same thing, eh?" he quipped before sighing, as his right hand flew to his flaming-hair. "I talked to her. And… she… Josh and Megan used to date. They broke up because of something in the library and him studying too much and her flirting with other guys and… I got to hear the whole story, with the details. From the feminine point of view of course." Ron looked at her briefly. "They were each trying to make the other jealous so they'd be together again. And we got mixed up in it without knowing a bloody thing."

"Don't swear," Hermione murmured, her impulse too strong. Ron chuckled softly.

"Anyway, they tricked us both. But I guess you already knew that, right?"

There was a pause before Hermione answered him. "I only guessed it fifteen minutes ago, when I saw your date trying to reach my date's stomach with the use of her tongue alone."

They both beamed.

"Well I, for certain, did not know that Hermione Granger, compulsive comic reader, was not aware of such an obvious occurrence."

"I may not have the intelligence you thought I have. I didn't know Josh had asked me to the Ball until you… did…" Hermione had started simply snorting but she lost her voice in the end of the sentence when she understood what she had just said. It had slipped. She didn't mean it! She didn't. Didn't.

'Well, at least, if you started, finish it!'

_Don't know if I can._

'Sure you can! Come on, I wanna hear that Gryffindor roar!'

_Sure you want…_

"Look Ron…" Ron looked and her shoulders sank. "When I was talking to Josh… that day and… and you called me, I… I, uh, wanted to go and meetyouand… I…" She could sense his blue eyes on her, almost piercing through her surface, her feelings so well-protected, so well-hidden it hurt. But the only thing Hermione could do was fiddle with her hair, the strands getting coiled in her fingers, as she kept mumbling about the most cumbersome subject she'd ever faced. "And I said something to hush him to get to… erm, to get to you so I said 'yeah, sure' so I had to go with him… But I only got it when I spoke with you in the… broom closet… and… well you know how I am. And I couldn't take back what I had said. I had to keep my word so…" Hermione sighed but the sigh was half way through her lips when she felt a little squeeze close to her wrist, so light she could have mistaken it for a snow flake brushing her arm, partially-covered by her skimpy cloak. However when she looked up, it wasn't snowing and Ron was simply staring blankly at his feet. Blinking and with a smile skimming her mouth, she stammered the rest of her difficult speech. "But, Ron… you're… uh, I wanted to go- to go with you. I really did. But… I was, I was as stupid as I had never been and- "

When Hermione felt Ron's fingers, firmly pressing against her mouth and preventing her from going on, her heart went on strike. Silently, she swallowed the lump in her throat and his Adam's apple went up and down along with it. She remembered the day when they had been just like they were now: him silencing her, in the corridor, after the first snow fall. When he was going to ask her and she hadn't yet said 'yeah, sure' to Josh and he was beautiful and he was just in front of her and he was just…

"No one has the right to offend you or call you names. No one but me, not even yourself."

But Hermione didn't complain about the lack of liberty that phrase implied. When she saw that lopsided grin on his face, her voice was lost in the deepness of his blue eyes, where she felt she could find the whole world, his world hidden from everybody but her. She didn't care that she was drowning in his eyes; she didn't notice the minutes flying by; she didn't see the snow flakes gently starting to fall from the dark skies. The only thing she was aware of was him in front of her. His lips, slightly red from the cold still wrapping them; his eyes shining as she hadn't seen them ever shine; his flaming hair, differing from the grey night draped around their figures.

Her heart started beating, beating faster and faster until she felt her ribcage near explosion. Then a numbness, from the end of her back, slowly climbing through her spine, like a tear rising to her head, tickling without tickling. A shiver travelled over her body, bringing all kinds of emotions, mixing with the ones that already rambled in her mind, and she breathed.

Ignoring how they had gotten so close, with Ron just a few inches from her and gazing at her with truth and belief, she sighed, like a whisper running through the empty streets. The snow kept continuously accumulating on the ground, as quietly as possible, as if not to attract the attention of the already oblivious pair.

And then he leaned in and she leaned in and they… bumped noses. Hermione had never kissed anyone in her whole life… She didn't know what she was supposed to do! In Muggle films, even the twenty-years-old girls and no experience in this kissing business had never missed their aim! That wasn't fair… She should have read something about it before the Ball. And the image of herself asking Madame Pince if there were any books related to Kissing Methods in the library made her laugh a little harder. The result of Ron's and her ignorance was a meeting of noses, two sore spots and soft chuckles. When she understood what had happened and that stopping now had only made it more difficult, the laughing abruptly ceased. And gathering all her courage, she uttered, "Ron, we…" But Hermione never finished because Ron had gathered his courage too. And leaned in again, this time to the right side.

Ron tasted like chocolate frogs with a hint of mint and something she couldn't quite put her finger on… oh yes, vanilla perhaps. Well, it was for sure that he _had_ found the pudding table. Hermione felt she was about to melt in his arms as they softly wrapped around her waist. She hoped they would never go away, because he was so warm in the middle of the blizzard and he was so sweet and he was so… he.

And she felt him smiling against her lips as the kiss deepened without losing his softness. And she smiled along…

Footsteps.

_Wait… Footsteps!_

Ron's lips.

_Footsteps… Footsteps are the sound we hear when someone walks and steps on the floor with his/her feet…_

'Or one foot at a time.'

Ron's tongue!

_Footsteps… Sound… Walking… Someone… Someone equals people… People… People! PEOPLE!_

Hermione realized her hands were cuddled in Ron's chest and, thinking logically, she pressed him back and parted their lips. Gasping for air and retrieving a big, cold blast, she moaned in a low voice, "Footsteps…"

Ron opened his eyes and he immediately turned his back to her, staring at the locale where the sound had come from. But she noticed his hand stretched behind him towards her and she took it, interlacing her fingers with his, warming up with a feeling of security.

From the end of the street a person appeared, emerging from the shadows. And Hermione, gasping, remembered about the War and Voldemort and Hogsmeade at night not being safe and... Thoughts came back, as she felt fear flooding her heart. It was the War, for Merlin's sake! How had they gotten out of the Ball's room? And they weren't first years; they knew the danger that ran through London's streets these days. They were perfectly aware: they had already faced thousands of perils and they had survived intact out of luck most of the time. It was the most stupid thing they could have done! And now they were paying for their lack of concern! The Death Eater in front of them probably wouldn't hesitate in killing them with two single simple words.

She felt fury against herself for not remembering of such an important matter and for the Death Eater that had no right of taking their lives!

Ron instantly pulled her behind him, concealing Hermione's form from the enemy, although the enemy had certainly seen her already. That gesture was so cute and protective but Ron was bigger than her so she wasn't able to see anything. And his grasp was firm and didn't allow any sort of movement on her part.

Then the enemy spoke. And she thought to herself that the voice she'd just heard could just as well be a Death Eater's as a professor's.

"Now, now, Mr. Weasley, there's no need for hiding your... friend." When Hermione heard Snape's clammy voice, she knew they were in trouble.

Snape walked over to them as the strength on Ron's clutch decreased and Hermione went to his side. A sly smile caught the curve of the professor's thin lips. Ron's hand slid from her fingers and the certainty that nothing would be the same fell down the black hole in her heart.

"Very well. Professor McGonagall insisted there was no need to patrol the streets. Let's see what she says about two of _her_ students being caught outside."

She didn't have good things to say, that was for sure.

McGonagall was practically screaming. _McGonagall_. The never-losing-her-temper-or-her-tightly-caught-hair McGonagall.

"What were you thinking? Dumbledore spoke only an hour ago about the importance of security, yet you two still wandered off. Were you planning on new adventures?"

_Yes,_ new _indeed._

"War is here, waiting to get you and you go out with no protection! This is unbelievable. Do you think you have more privileges than other students?"

"Those are the words I'd use certainly. It would be even more appropriate if Potter was here…" Snape sneered from the corner where he was standing, clearly satisfied. His eyes glinted with almost as much brightness as his oily hair. "Potter didn't go out with you two, did he?" The journey back to the Hall with Snape hadn't been hideous; that was _being_ with him. The Potions Master hadn't said a word while they walked and Hermione was glad she was obligated to go in front, so she could pretend she didn't see the smirk that was _certainly_ on his lips. The worst had been the encounter with the Headmaster and the deputy Headmistress.

They both shook their heads in response to Snape's question. Hermione kept her eyes on the floor as if she was there only to inspect the carpet.

'You seem to have developed a great passion for rugs!'

McGonagall went on with her severe sermon and then ceased talking when Dumbledore slowly reached them. His deep and low words hurt them more than McGonagall's shrieking speech.

"I am truly very disappointed with you two. We gave you the chance to have fun and you tried to experience too much at one time. The trust we gave you was abused. I know you two, along with Mr. Potter and some others, have the ability to attract trouble, but I thought you understood the opportunity you had been given." Dumbledore sighed, but Hermione wouldn't take her eyes off the ground for anything in the world.

Then she heard a familiar clearing of throat and she lifted her head.

"It wasn't her fault, Professor."

Hermione looked at Ron in amazement as he blamed himself. His gaze was on Dumbledore, his jaw set, and his back straight. But there were two things that showed his nervousness: the light pink tone on the back of his neck and his fingers, folding and creasing the hem of his sleeve, running through the stitches.

"I... I invited Hermione for a, uh, walk. I did. So, it isn't her fault."

"But Miss Granger accepted, didn't she?" McGonagall asked.

"Well, uh, yes..."

Hermione felt a strong need to pass her thumb by his wrist but there was something about the way he hadn't even looked at her that stopped her from doing so. She blinked hard before affirming, "Professor McGonagall is right. I should have turned down his invitation." _As I would never do._ "I completely forgot about the... situation in which we are at the present moment. I am sorry."

Ron was about to protest when Hermione added in a hurry, "Ronald is, too."

Hermione thought she saw an amused sparkle behind the Headmaster's glasses as the sides of Dumbledore's lips twitched before he said, "Well...you'll be in detention for four weeks. I think I've said just a few hours ago that tonight was a night of new hopes and fixed errors... Although I believe you have made your mistakes anew, I also said that everybody should get a second chance. So go and have what I think is the last dance."

Taking a last glance around at the professors (Snape's expression wasn't totally thrilled) and nodding silently, they both exited the room as quickly as they could without rudely running like chickens. Hermione thought about the room that had been transfigured the minute they had come back. It suggested the seriousness of their little _escape_ to visit "Hogsmeade by night."

Even though she was being punished and had heard one of Dumbledore's disappointed-voice speeches, Hermione would have never changed the night if she had the chance. Making up with Ron, _kissing_ Ron – those were the factors that made that night the best of her life.

But there was something about the way Ron was acting. They weren't in the transfigured office anymore. He didn't have to be so afraid and keep his eyes glued to the floor! Only then did she notice the even redder ears and the dancing feet. The fact weighing on her mind was that she knew it would be a long time before she'd taste those lips again or just speak to them.

The music suddenly stopped and someone cleared his throat loudly. "Students! Please join your partners to return to Hogwarts. We hope you enjoyed the night."

A/N: So, what do you think? Sucked? Marvelled? Any and every criticism is welcome, so just REVIEW!

Sorry for taking so much time to post this… The truth is I had it sort of ready in mid September but then I had some… friends situations that really got me down… Then my cousin was born! Which changed my mood because he's just the most beautiful thing on Earth! And school started and I had some problems with my beta… Who is doraemon now – thank you so much for everything, specially for your patience… You rock! So… this is my life…

Now I think I'm going take a break from "Trying To…" to write some one-shots fics that have been killing my sleep and won't let me rest until I write them down. And get REVIEWS. Really.

ps. EowynDernhelm, check the replies. I've seen _Memento_! Well… you've probably noticed…


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